The Once and Future Queen
by JennyJoy4
Summary: Susan no longer believes in Narnia, and all she cares for are lipstick and parties. But will she be able to keep up her denial when she is returned to Narnia and meets a queen who is all she herself should be?
1. The Door in the Cellar

Susan Pevensie didn't believe in Narnia anymore. 

Lucy had happened to mention it last Christmas, perfectly seriously. Susan had laughed.

"Yes, what _fun_ we used to have, playing that game!" she said, flipping her lustrous black curls over her shoulder. "Fancy you remembering that after all these years!"

They were sitting in the old nursery in their house in London. Peter, 22, was down from university for the holidays. Susan had been visiting friends in Brighton, and expected to attend quite a few parties now that she was home. Ever since she turned eighteen and discovered the advantage her beauty and wealth lent her, she had become a society girl. Now 21, she reveled in it so much that her father occasionally apostrophized that all she cared for was nylons, lipstick and her beaus. Edmund, fair-headed and rather good-looking, was just out of school and Lucy was in her last year, her blonde hair no longer in pigtails. Peter had that noble, masculine look to his face that would lead someone later, as I'm sure you know, to say he had "the look of a king and a warrior." He now turned that expression of authority on his sister—albeit with some puzzlement.

"You know it was much more than a game, Su," he said, almost sternly. "Remember the missing hats and galoshes?"

"Oh, yes," Susan trilled, although she began to feel a little uneasy. "Where _did_ we hide those? I've forgotten. Professor Kirke was such an old dear to play along and believe we'd lost them in Narnia."

Lucy and Edmund exchanged glances. "Are you joking, or do you really not remember?" Lucy asked quietly. "Did you really make yourself forget it all?"

Susan began to feel irritated, and almost—yes, almost frightened by the way her siblings seemed so serious about that old nonsense. "Oh, for God's sake!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "Haven't we all grown too old for those stupid games?"

She seemed to think she was so grown up now. Edmund shook his head. He remembered when she was really an adult—Queen Susan the Gentle, with her ebony hair falling almost to her feet, and suitors from as far away as the Lone Islands and Calormen came to Cair Paravel to seek her hand. Her current state was a poor, misguided parody of that glorious example of womanhood.

"Don't you shake your head at me, Edmund Pevensie," Susan said irritably, putting on her "older sister" voice. She stood abruptly and left the room, muttering to herself.

"_Why_ oh _why_ didn't I stay in Brighton with Nancy?" she said quietly to herself. "She invited me to stay for Christmas, and what do I say? 'Oh, no thank you, Nancy, I'd rather go home and see my brothers and sister for the holidays.' What was I thinking? I get no respect from them. They don't know a _thing_ about how to get on in society. Look at Lucy! _She_ could never land a boy like Edward."

She stomped her way irritably down the stairs, remembering the last time she's seen her boyfriend. It was a rather loud party, if she recalled correctly. Several of Edward's friends were down from university, and they had had quite a bit to drink. Edward wasn't totally sober, either. And soon, neither was Susan, which accounted for her only hazy recollection of the party.

Edward had cornered her in the corridor. "C'mere, love," he said, his voice slurring a bit, a bottle in one hand. "C'mere and give us a kiss."

Susan giggled. "Your breath smells like liquor, Ned."

"So does yours," he answered reasonably, although the force of his argument was rather diminished when he lost his balance and almost fell over.

Susan's shriek of laughter led Nancy and James into the corridor. "What're you doing here in the dark, Ned?" James pronounced in an over-loud voice. "Come on out!"

Nancy giggled as James dragged Susan's paramour into the parlor. Just before they reached the light, Edward leaned over and whispered loudly in Susan's ear, "You'se the prettiest girl I've ever seen." Susan smiled at the recollection. That was where she belonged: with people who knew how to have a good time. Not with siblings who professed to believe in a silly made-up world with talking _animals_ for heaven's sake. Even a talking _lion_…

A sudden shudder ran through her at that thought, and she pushed Narnia firmly from her mind.

000

In early January, Susan's siblings went off to visit Professor Kirke at his house in the country. Their cousin Eustace and his friend Jill were going as well. Susan went with them to the station to see them off. She herself was leaving again for Brighton in about a week, so she declined the professor's invitation. It would have been dead dull, anyway.

There was a surprise for them at the station: Miss Plummer, or Aunt Polly, as they generally called her, was on the train. She was going to visit, as well. Susan had what she called a "jolly little jaw" with Aunt Polly on the platform, but she had the sneaking suspicion that Aunt Polly didn't think much of her anymore. No matter; her siblings were soon on the train and waving out the window to her.

She and her parents were vastly surprised later that week to receive a wire from Peter saying that he and Edmund would be coming back early. The very next day after they returned, Susan spied them out the window, coming back to the house in the wee hours of the morning, wearing workmen's clothes. She was vaguely curious about their plots, but she had to pack for Brighton.

The next morning, Peter, Edmund and Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie went to the station to meet the train. Susan was in a bit of a pet about having her trip to Brighton moved back a week due to Nancy's great aunt being ill, and in a fit of bad temper, refused to accompany them to the station. This really was for the best…

I'm sure, Dear Reader, you have figured it out by now and understand why I say this. For that very morning at the station, there was an accident on British Rail, and three of the Pevensie children, their parents, Eustace and Jill, and Aunt Polly and Professor Kirke were all killed. You know what came of that. But Susan did not know. Susan never learned what had happened to her family in the land of the living, because there was something left uncompleted in her life.

Susan was in a black humour as she tramped down the stairs to the cellar. She was making herself lunch, and wanted some of the canned peaches. She found the shelf she wanted, and took one of the quarts of peaches, heavy and solid in their Ball jar. Whipping around to go upstairs, she almost smacked her head on an open door.

An open door? There wasn't a door there! Susan had been in that cellar many a time, and never was there a door in that wall. It led to a dark passageway. Susan cautiously stepped inside it, the quart of peaches clutched tightly in her hand. She cautiously felt the wall with the other hand, thinking, _If there are spiders in here, I am going to _scream. But there were no spiders. The stone walls were dry and clean, free from spider- and cobwebs.

Her brothers sneaking out of the house in the early morning dressed in workman's clothes was one thing. Finding a tunnel in your cellar where no tunnel should be is something else. She had a right to know what this was all about. So with a show of bravery she wasn't sure she quite felt, Susan stepped boldly into the tunnel.

It was 11:52 in the morning. The train carrying her younger sister derailed at the station. Susan never heard of it.

After a few yards, the tunnel turned, and at the end, Susan could see daylight. _That's strange_, she thought, _the ground doesn't slope up to the surface_. She was soon out in the light—and staring at a beautiful June day. Before her was a field soft with grass and flowers, and then some cool, dark woodland. The sun shone brightly around her. But these were not the first things she noticed. The first thing she noticed was a man who had seen her sudden appearance, and was now striding purposefully toward her. He was dressed in lovely shades of green and blue, in a style that Susan could only assume was meant for a costume ball. Stopping before her, he made a graceful bow.

"My Lady," he said in perfectly English, "have you enjoyed a look about these ruins?"

"_Ruins_?" Susan exclaimed, momentarily distracted from all the other odd things that were going on. "What ruins?" She turned around to look the way she had come. "Oh," she said softly. For where she expected to see her house in London, there was only a manor house built of stone, in ruins, with grass growing where floors should have been, and the tunnel she came from only entered into the great hall, overgrown with late spring flowers.

"Oh, dear."

* * *

AN: Thanks to my mom for the suggestion of how to get her to Narnia. You have not seen the last of the peaches. :) So what do you think? And no, you're not SUPPOSED to like Susan. At least, not yet. Press that little review button at the bottom of the screen to make a poor little fanfic writer very happy!  



	2. Cair Paravel

Susan stared in complete horror at the beautiful scenery. Even the butterflies gave her chills. Even so, there was something vaguely familiar about this place, something she couldn't quite put her finger on…

But the man was talking again. She tuned in to what he was saying.

"Are you alright, My Lady? You have turned pale," he said concernedly. "And you appear to have torn your dress."

Susan looked down. Her skirt was in one piece. She looked up at him quizzically. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, your… ankles are showing," he said, turning a little pink.

Susan glanced quellingly down at his own knees, which were showing between the kilt-like thing he was wearing and his medieval-looking boots.

"Look who's talking."

He blinked at her, entirely confused. He was rather good-looking, apart from his sense of fashion, with light brown hair that fell in his olive eyes and skin darkened a bit by the sun. But behind that handsome face, he obviously had no idea what she was talking about. Susan decided this was getting her nowhere. "Where are we?" she asked him, slowly and clearly.

He seemed relieved to hear her ask something he could answer. "In the ruins of Cair Andrel," he responded promptly.

"Cair Andrel?" she asked blankly. "I've never heard of it."

"Truly? Your tutors perhaps have not included it in your history lessons. The younger son of the second king of Narnia established it—"

Susan interrupted him. "Narnia?!"

"Yes…?" The young man was beginning to look very curious indeed. But Susan wasn't looking at him. Her head was spinning. Narnia? Oh, surely not. Narnia had been a game! It certainly wasn't real. She could almost believe this was a prank; maybe her siblings were playing a prank on her because she was so adamant about not believing in Narnia anymore! But really, she couldn't imagine any of her siblings, or even her (once) horrid cousin Eustace being _this_ cruel, and anyway, how would they do it? It was too elaborate; too real. But there was no such thing as Narnia! She had told herself that for years, and she still insisted on believing it. Maybe she was dreaming?... No, she wasn't dreaming, and she knew it. Nor was she dead. She felt more alive, really, than she had in quite a long time. All this thinking was making her head hurt, and she rubbed it where she had smacked into the door.

"Are you unwell?" The young man had stepped a little closer, a look of concern on his face. "You seem disoriented…"

"Yes, I'm unwell," Susan said, latching on to the excuse he had given her. "I hit my head."

"Ah. Well, I will escort you back to your party; they must be missing you. From which direction did you come?"

_I don't know; I was traveling perpendicular to reality_, Susan thought, a bit amused. "I—I don't know," she stammered, exaggerating her confusion. She squinted a bit in the sunlight, just for effect.

"You should not be in the sun," the young man said decisively, and offered her his arm. "I will take you to Cair Paravel; it is not far."

The name meant nothing to Susan, but she put her hand lightly on his arm (her other hand clutched in a death-grip around the jar of peaches as if it were her last link to reality) and walked with him.

"Pardon me, milady, but I have not introduced myself!" He turned a beaming smile on her. "My name is Prince Belarion."

That was the solution. He was mad. A madman who thought he was a prince and wandered around in ruins dressed in funny clothes. She must humor him.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Highness," Susan said, putting on her best manners. "My name is Susan."

"From where do you hail, Lady Susan?"

"I'm… not from around here," she hedged.

"Archenland, perhaps? Or near the Great Waterfall?"

"Near Archenland," Susan fibbed cautiously.

"Ah."

They walked in silence for some time, under the cool shade of the forest and to a dirt road, and Susan took the time to think. She was intensely grateful that he hadn't grilled her on her place of origin, since she was pretty sure that all the acting in the world wouldn't help her fib her way through a geography she wasn't familiar with. Did she know anything about the landscape of Narnia? She racked her brains…

_There is no Narnia,_ she told herself sternly. _It was a game. You made it up._

_Oh, _answered another part of her, _are you sure? This can't be a game; it's just a bit too real._ She was almost ready to give in to that voice. And then, she realized something that made her smile with relief.

_This can't be Narnia_, she said with assurance. _Because he doesn't know my name. If Narnia were somehow, inexplicably real, then I was a queen there. And this Prince Belarion obviously knows his history. He should have recognized my name. Susan isn't at all a name like Belarion; it's not Narnian. He didn't recognize my name, so I wasn't queen here, so this is not Narnia!_ She resisted the urge to add, _Ha!_, because talking to oneself in one's head is perfectly acceptable, but laughing triumphantly at proving yourself wrong is just a little strange. Even for a girl who was walking with a (thankfully benign) madman who thought he was a prince. The Cair Paravel that he was taking her to was probably some funny little cottage in the woods, and she would come up with an excuse and get away, and find her way back to the ruins and—somehow—get back into the cellar.

They were rounding a corner in the road, and the forest seemed to be ending. Soon they would be out in the open. She must remember to stifle her laughter when she saw the "Prince's" hut…

She never had to stifle her laughter. She had to stifle a gasp. As they rounded the corner and came out from the trees, she saw in the distance a castle, a palace, right on the edge of the sea, with the sun glinting off its high windows and gay scarlet banners snapping in the breeze.

Belarion stopped and gestured to it. "Cair Paravel, my Lady," he said.

Calmly, rationally, Susan turned to face him. "I apologize," she said politely. "I thought you were mad." She made herself smile graciously at his astonished expression. _Then_ she passed out.

000

Susan came to slowly. She was in a soft bed with cool sheets. Somewhere nearby a window was open, and a breeze blew over her with the wonderful tang of the sea in it. Susan kept her eyes closed. She knew what she would see when she opened them—her room in her friend's house in Brighton. Oh, but the air smelled better than ever Brighton's did! And the bed was softer too. And come to think of it, she was not wearing her nightgown…

Susan opened her eyes and got a bit of a shock. This was _not_ her friend's house in Brighton. She was in an elegant bedchamber with gaily-coloured tapestries on the walls and a beautiful rug on the floor. The sheets on the bed were silk.

Susan sat up abruptly, then had to shut her eyes against a wave of dizziness. When she opened them again, someone had hurried over to her. She squinted up at the newcomer.

"Gently, Lady Susan!" the young woman admonished. She was several years older than Susan herself, with bright golden hair that reminded Susan of her little sister Lucy, only that it wasn't curly, but ran smooth as glass down her back and cascaded over her shoulders. She was quite beautiful, with great eyes of blue—blue as sapphires. Something in her face reminded Susan of Prince Belarion—not in her coloration, but in the shape of her features.

"Here." She pushed a glass of water into Susan's hand. "You should be feeling more the thing presently."

As Susan sipped the water, she noticed her jar of peaches, standing incongruously on the nightstand. She almost choked.

"Where am I?" she managed.

"In Cair Paravel," her hostess said calmly. "On the eastern shore of Narnia. My brother carried you here when you swooned."

"Your brother?"

"Prince Belarion. I am Queen Silvana."

Susan automatically bowed her head. "Your Majesty," she said deferentially. Then her brow furrowed. Why had she done that? She felt a sudden desire to be connected with her old self, so she reached over and grabbed the jar of peaches, hugging them to her.

Queen Silvana looked slightly bemused, but did not comment. After a pause, she said, "Maybe the sea air will clear your head," and walked over to a large wardrobe in the corner. From this she produced a gown of the palest spring green and a pair of matching slippers.

"Oh!" Susan said, her troubles forgotten. "How lovely!"

The Queen smiled. "You may have it, as your own clothes seem to have been… torn, somehow."

"Thank you very much, Your Majesty," Susan said, getting out of bed and making a curtsey. The Queen handed her the dress, and Susan tried to undo the buttons.

"You'll, um, need to put down the peaches first, my dear," Silvana said with a small smile.

* * *

**AN:** I do love that jar of peaches. It's becoming its own character, isn't it?

Unfortunately, I don't think that was quite as well-written as the last chapter. I'm sort of making this up as I go along. Coming up with a plot before I write it doesn't seem to work, so maybe this will? Hey, it worked for Tolkein! :)

**Poison blossom**: I don't care if your review was "helpful" or not; I still enjoyed receiving it!

**HottStuffMely**: I'm glad you like it! Edmund was always my favorite character, but the more I concentrate on Susan, the more fascinating she becomes. I'm looking forward to exploring her character.

**Fledge**: I always pictured Susan as a blonde, too. Maybe because she was played by a blonde in the old movies. (I can't wait until the new one comes out next Christmas!!!!) Actually, I hadn't thought about the fact that Aslan said she couldn't come back… Good point. Uh-oh… lol I'll come up with _something_! Thank you for mentioning it! (This is what I get for not beta-ing…)

**LaydieLenne**: Unfortunately, I tend to write short chapters. I don't know why. People are always complaining about it in my Little Princess fic. Thanks!

**Ice73**: Well, there is one trick in the plot I'm going to pull in at one point that should make you dislike her intensely… Hee hee! —rubs hands together wickedly— Hey, do you have any extra hot chocolate? :)

**Please review!** Maybe ice73 will share her hot chocolate with you, too!


	3. Realization

Susan and Silvana made their way down the stairs and into the Great Hall. Susan caught her breath when she saw it. The vaulted ceiling was of ivory and the door they had just come through hung with peacock feathers. To her left was a dais with a single glorious throne in the center of it, and directly across from her was a beautiful sight.

The easttern door, inlaid with designs of gold, had been thrown open to reveal the green and blue of the ocean, for the door opened right onto the sea, and when the weather was fair as it was today, the door was kept open that the afternoon sun might shine in on the golden panels and the sea breeze would waft freely into the Hall. Susan inhaled the great tang of the sea.

Before she could go to the door, however, the sweet sound of a horn reached them from outside. She followed Silvana out into the courtyard in time to see a group of nobles ride up. One of them, a handsome young man with golden-brown hair, carried the gay yellow banner of Archenland. There were two other men and three ladies, all dressed in beautiful clothing and with their hair free in the breeze.

They dismounted once they had gained the courtyard, and the first man hailed Silvana as "Cousin".

"Good health, Cousin," she greeted him amiably. "What news from your father's kingdom?"

"All is well in Archenland," he answered, as a younger woman rushed past him and gave Silvana a hug.

"Well met, Cousin!" the girl cried. She had dark brown hair that waved gently over her shoulders, and Susan thought she detected a resemblance between her and the first man; they looked like siblings. "You know my husband, of course, Lord Dirin," she introduced another of her company as the group dismounted. "And my good friends, the Ladies Calia and Caliana, and this is Sir Tevran."

Sir Tevran, the good-looking man, had handed the banner to Lord Dirin as he dismounted—rather stiffly, Susan thought. He bowed to Queen Silvana and kissed her hand.

"Welcome to Cair Paravel, honored guests," the Queen declared graciously. "This is Lady Susan, who comes from our southern border, and Huffledud the dwarf, and Aminia the dryad…"

Susan jumped and looked around. The courtyard had filled with people while she was distracted, and now she saw there were a few dwarves and nymphs, a faun and a huge badger, two oversized jackdaws and something that looked suspiciously like a naiad. _Oh dear,_ she thought desperately. _How does one go on in a society that isn't even _human!

The visitors from Archenland didn't seem to mind. The siblings were introduced to the court as Prince Everon and Princess Eva, apparently the children of the current king of Archenland, King Halberas.

"Come, let us go into the hall," Silvana suggested, and the court and their visitors trooped back into the palace. Sir Tevran was behind the rest; he had stopped to pull a crutch out of the bundle on his horse's back and limped out of the courtyard, laughing at some jest that one of the ladies had made.

000

When Silvana suggested a walk in the garden, it was Sir Tevran that Susan found herself beside, at the back of the group. She was there because she felt a little awkward around the Narnians, and he was there because he didn't move as quickly as everyone else, and so naturally fell in at the back of the group.

"Lady Susan," Sir Tevran said courteously, inclining his head. "So which part of the southern border do you come from?"

Susan thought fast. "Due south of Dancing Lawn," she improvised. She was pretty sure that was far enough away from Anvard, the capital of Archenland.

"Ah," the young man replied. "And where is that? I am unfamiliar with the geography of Narnia, you see."

"Oh. Well, it's just a little west of Aslan's Howe," Susan explained. She was certain he would recognize that name; she recalled that when they had played that they were in Narnia in Prince Caspian's time, her brothers and sister had bandied around that name as if everyone knew where the landmark was.

But Sir Tevran shook his head. "I am afraid I have not had the pleasure of learning of Aslan's Howe," he said courteously.

_Just one more proof_, Susan thought with smug satisfaction. _Anyone who has been to Narnia should have heard of Aslan's Howe_. Could this possibly be some sort of elaborate set-up? But a set-up for what? Susan frowned.

By this time they had become caught up in conversation and had dropped even further behind the rest of the group, who had moved on to view some other part of the gardens. Susan was startled by Tevran's voice. "Do the roses displease you, madam?" he asked.

"Roses?" Susan asked in confusion, then glanced down at the flowers by the garden path. "Oh! No. I was just thinking."

"Of some great trouble, perhaps?" Tevran asked gently. "No happy contemplation could have made you look so angry."

"Do I look angry?" Susan laughed. It was time to turn on the medieval charm. Maybe she could get the truth out of someone in this nuthouse! "I do not mean to, I assure you. Your company is quite pleasant."

Tevran looked a little surprised at this statement, but not displeased. "Yours is as well, my lady."

A bell sounded somewhere inside. "Ah. The call to dinner," Tevran said. "Shall we return to the front doors?"

"Oh, no need for that," Susan said airily. "There's a back entrance somewhere around here…" She led him down the path and then pointed out a door, half hidden in a recess of the wall. Tevran held it for her, and they both entered a back corridor of the castle. "The dining hall should be right down here," Susan continued, pulling a door open. Sure enough, there were the great tables laid out for dinner. She smiled broadly at her companion as he entered.

"You must know Cair Paravel quite well, madam!" Tevran smiled back at her. "I am sure very few visitors ever notice that door."

Susan's smile froze on her face and she stared at him in horror. She _didn't_ know Cair Paravel well—she had never been there before! _How had she known about that door?_

Tevran didn't notice her discomfiture. He went and pulled a chair out for her at one of the tables and turned back with a pleasant expression. Susan plastered a wooden smile on her face and stiffly took the chair. All the time, her mind was chanting, _What's going on? Am I going mad? What's going on!_

000

Dinner would have been a fascinating experience, had Susan been concentrating on it. But her mind was focused elsewhere. So many things were beginning to seem familiar. It was like returning to a house you had lived in when you were so young that you no longer remembered it. The sound of laughter and clinking cutlery echoing in the high ceiling of the dining hall, the smooth stone of the floor, the sweet tang of salt air—somehow more healthful than the air of Brighton—fanning gently in the room to move the ladies' hair and skirts. The distinctive voice of one of the jackdaws telling a joke—they were so very fond of jokes, weren't they? The jackdaws?

_Stop it_, Susan told herself. _You've never heard a jackdaw talk before—much less tell a joke!_ But it was all terribly familiar!

_No, not all of it_, she told herself. _Some of it seems strangely out-of-place. That decorative sideboard, for instance!_ It stood off on her left, and it had a particular kind of scroll work that Susan was positive she had never seen before. She didn't understand.

She managed to excuse herself shortly after desert (the gentlemen all stood when she got down from the table, which gave her a bit of a shock) and fled to her room. At least here, she could think in peace without having to worry about what people around her were thinking. The light coming in the window was lovely. She walked over to them and leaned her head on the window frame.

In Silvana's wonderful hospitality, they had given her a room that looked eastward over the sea. The light that entered the room was all reflected off the water. The sea was a light and luminous green-blue, a more limpid and lovely color than the sea at Brighton had ever seemed in any light. For one instant, she wanted it all to be real. She wanted there to be such a wonderful place as Narnia. But there was no such place, and right now, it made her heart ache to think that. She shut her eyes.

A sound rose from the water below, but Susan didn't notice it. It began low and rose in loops and curls of twisting melody. The sea-people had swum up to the eastern door and were serenading them. It was a strange kind of sound, rather unearthly, but stunningly beautiful all the same—a song of warm shores and cold currents, changing tides and changeless depths.

It was a song Susan had heard many times, and she began softly to sing along. She mimicked the strange, ululating notes of the merpeople, the articulations and flourishes of their voices. She was carried away in the melody, and sang a little louder. The song began to die away, and stopped suddenly, letting the sound of the waves crash as a finale. But Susan held that last note.

And heard her own voice.

She knew that song. The merpeople had sung it many nights, as she and her brothers and sister and the people of their court sat in the great hall and listened. The sunlight would glint off of the eastern door, and the peacock feathers on the western door would float in the sea breeze. And the delicious warmth of the day would fade into the sweet cool of the evening, and the nymphs sitting on the steps of the dais would lay their heads on their knees and smile in perfect peace. It was the part of Narnia Susan had always loved the best—the great hall in the evening, with the sea folk singing that very song.

This was Narnia. She could deny it no longer. The memories came to her—not like a flood, but like a veil slipped slowly to the floor, revealing everything that had always stood behind it, not quite visible to the eye. This was Narnia. And she herself had been a queen.

**TBC**

**

* * *

AN: Yes, I know it was a terribly long time between chapters! But I'm a little stuck at the moment. My basic idea for the story needs some major revision, but I hope to get back into it! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! Reader interest is really what keeps me coming back to update.**

**fledge**: You know, you're right. They might not be prudish—after all, with the nymphs and so forth running around in those diaphanous costumes. I'll keep it in mind and come up with an explanation. :) Your comments really make me think about what I'm writing! Pray continue!

**Writer from Rivendell**: Thanks! Always proud to have a rule-breaking story. :)

**Lizzy**: I won't answer your question just yet, but awesome guess!

**poison blossom**: Yeah, I loved that line, too. :)

**Enjie Yekcam**: Good point. Will remember it!

**ice73**: Cricket! Hee hee hee! And I am SO SORRY I referred to you as female! I don't know why I did that. It's either because I expect girls to read the story more (which really makes no sense) or because I'm just used to putting things in the feminine because I'm at women's college… :) So, so, so sorry! (But I love the hot chocolate… Yummy! And the review!)

**qwerty**: Was that an exclamation or a prayer? I hope it's not _that_ bad:)

**varlet-un**: Yeah, I'm sure the "Dear Reader" didn't go over well with everybody. –shrugs— Well, ya win some, ya lose some. :) Thanks!

**Isobel Kelte**: All answers shall be revealed in time! –grins evilly—

**Yoo-hoo luver…w/legs!**: (would love to know where the screen name comes from, btw) Yes! A fanclub for the peaches! I love it!

**sasori**: lol Yes, isn't it, tho? Thanks!

**Gods-girl2004**: (love the screen name) Oh, PLEASE don't go insane!

**MissE**: Well, we've already got the female warrior in Queen Lucy the Valiant, and gentleness is certainly also a virtue. I hope to bring that theme in again later. And good question why none of them was "the Brilliant" or "the Wise". I guess they had that covered in Edmund the Just. It's interesting: Peter was "a great warrior" and was "the Magnificent", so there's the very strong man of the two of them (Peter and Edmund). And Lucy was "the Valiant", so she's his counterpart (the oldest and the youngest!). Then there's "Edmund the Just" who was therefore also merciful, and "Susan the Gentle". They all balance each other wonderfully!

**Herald Jacquelle**: I like how you put that!

Thanks also to **Jaina Kenobi**, **Jennevieve**, **xxhannahbananaxx**, **HottStuffMelv**, **Alexis Kent**, **ShadowWalker**, and **silver-star-0**!

**Please review!** **Criticisms and comments are welcomed with open arms!** The more criticisms and comments I get, probably the faster this story will start to fall into place, and the faster I'll update! (How's that for bribery?) I'm sure the hot chocolate hasn't run out just yet! (And help yourself to some peaches! Just not the ones in the jar, please. Susan might get upset.)


	4. Questions Answered

Susan did not leave her room until the next morning. She spent much of the night in thought. This was Narnia; that was established. And her own adventures here had definitely occurred, unless her memory was playing tricks on her. But that was just the problem.

Was it possible she was wrong? Maybe she was dreaming… or mad. But she had pinched herself repeatedly, to no avail. So either this was all real, or she had finally cracked. She didn't want to think about the later option, so she concentrated on the former.

So Narnia was real, she had been here twice before, and now she had come again. She now remembered everything about her many years spent here, every bit of it. A few questions remained in her mind. Namely: How was it no one knew her? and, Why had she been allowed to return? Aslan had told her and Peter quite clearly, that last time after the whole issue with Prince Caspian, that they were getting too old to return to Narnia, and that they wouldn't be allowed to return. She remembered also that there were things he had said quite solemnly to them, some warnings, some reassurances... But she didn't want to think about Aslan. The very thought of him gave her the shivers, now. She didn't know why. She had always loved meeting with Aslan when she had been in Narnia before, but now the idea of meeting him face to face gave her a horrible feeling of dread.

So, ignoring that question, that left her with something she felt much more comfortable thinking about. How was it, if she and her siblings had been rulers of Narnia, that no one here recognized her name? If someone claiming to be Queen Guinevere returned to England, there would be consternation. But she had gotten no reaction at all, from anyone. Queen Silvana, at the least, should have been educated enough to know her name.

And who _was_ this Queen Silvana, anyway? Susan had listened avidly to Eustace's retelling of his latest adventure in Narnia with his friend Jill, and he said that when he left, Caspian's son Rilian was ascending the throne. But that had been seven years ago—knowing how times seemed to run in Narnia, many hundreds of years could have passed here between now and then. Perhaps they were living in a time that was so far in the future that no one remembered her and her siblings any longer?

The last time she had seen Cair Paravel, it had been an old ruin. Eustace had told her that it had been rebuilt—he and Jill had even spent a night there (_and_ been told the story of Prince Cor and the horse Bree, Susan recalled). But surely, if it had been centuries later, she would have seen more difference in the building and its surroundings?

She remembered staring at a place on the wall last night, which was almost directly across from her seat at the great table. There was a strangely shaped stain there on the wood paneling. It looked vaguely like a horse. She could remember, now, staring at that shape years before. It had been on the wall when she was queen. That paneling could have remained in some form in Narnia for a few hundred years, but certainly not through the long centuries of decay between their reign and Caspian's. When she and her siblings had come to Narnia the second time, they had seen that the wood paneling of the Great Hall had all rotted away. It must have been replaced during Caspian's reign, so how could that stain still be there?

Poor Susan's head was reeling by this time, and the sun had long since shown his yellow face over the horizon and the sea, so she got up and put on some clothes (how beautiful and comfortable Narnian clothes had always been!) and with a friendly pat on the jar of peaches, went down to the great hall, where the inhabitants of the castle and their guests were, as they put it, breaking their fast. She tried to sneak over to the table without being seen, but it didn't work. All the men at the table half-rose in a courteous gesture as she took her seat, and she could feel herself blushing.

"Good morning, Lady Susan," the Queen was saying kindly. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, thank you, Your Majesty," Susan answered briefly. She started a bit as the badger sitting next to her handed her a basket of muffins, but managed to smile and say thank you as she took one.

The people sitting around her tried to include her in their small talk, but she answered in monosyllables, and they soon gave up.

As breakfast was ending, Queen Silvana stood. The entire table followed suit. "Gentle guests, I have asked that the court minstrels serenade you in the gardens. Unfortunately, must beg your pardon, for I have some matters to attend to. His Royal Highness, Prince Belarion, will guide you."

The party all moved to depart, and Susan followed them, until Silvana's voice made her halt in her tracks.

"Lady Susan. Would you come with me, please?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Susan said. But her mouth had gone dry. The Queen led her out of the hall and down a corridor.

The Queen got right to the point. "Lady Susan, I am worried about you. You seem to be confused, or frightened perhaps?" Susan dropped her eyes to her feet. The Queen's tone was very kind. "I do not know why that should be. I want to help you.

"First, of course, we must find your party. They must be worried sick about you by now. Tell me, who are they, and where did you last see them?"

"I…" Susan didn't know how to answer her. "I didn't have a party, Madam. I traveled alone."

"What?—alone! all the way from our southern border?" The Queen sounded incredulous.

Susan shut her mouth. She really did not know how to explain to the Queen that she had lied to her brother. _Maybe I could explain it all to her_, she thought. _Maybe she would understand why I lied. I could tell her I'm from another world._ But then she imagined Silvana's reaction. She and the others had always come to Narnia in times of trouble, and this didn't seem to be one of those times. Would Silvana think she was lying? But then, Silvana hadn't seemed to recognize her name, so how could Susan explain that she had been to Narnia before? Susan's head reeled.

Silvana frowned at her companion's silence. It was deeply disrespectful of this Lady Susan not to answer her, but then, the poor child looked troubled and frightened. She must go about this questioning carefully, it seemed. Try and make her more at ease before she pressed her for details.

They paced side by side in silence. Then Silvana turned into a long gallery. One side was full of tall windows that let in the morning light. The other wall was lined in portraits. "My forefathers," she said, gesturing to the paintings. Susan stepped up to get a closer look.

The first had a little golden plaque below it which read, "King Frank and Queen Helen" and gave their years of rule. Susan remembered vaguely that Professor Kirke had told them that Frank had been a London cabby before being sent to Narnia. He certainly didn't look like a cabby in the painting! He had a rich, golden-brown beard and kind and courageous eyes, and Helen's long, brown hair was loose, and she looked a little shy, but tremendously sweet. They wore gold and silver circlets set with emeralds and rubies, and behind them was visible a lovely tree with brilliant red apples.

On the next few portraits, the kings were all named Frank. Some of the portraits showed them with their wives, who for the first couple of generations, appeared to be nymphs of some kind. Then after Frank V, there was a portrait of two handsome young men, named Frank VI and Col I, first King of Archenland.

"The younger son moved south and formed his own kingdom," Silvana was explaining, "which means that the kings of Archenland are my distant cousins. There has always been much goodwill between our peoples. But I am sure you know that, living as you do along the border."

Oh yes, Susan knew—or rather, she remembered. As she and her siblings were not descended from King Frank and Queen Helen, they hadn't been cousins with the royalty of Archenland, but they had been close allies and friends. When the Calormenes had invaded Archenland during their rule, Edmund and Lucy had led the forces of Narnia to help defend the castle of Anvard. She had forgotten the history of their alliance, however.

Susan moved on to the next portraits. The royal line appeared to have dropped the name Frank after about seven generations, and moved on to more of what Susan thought of as Narnian names. There were a few ruling queens of Narnia in the portraits, and there was not a cruel face among any of them.

Finally, they came to the last two portraits. Silvana indicated the first. "My father, King Gale, first Emperor of the Lone Islands. They sent him word that they were being attacked by a dragon, and he and his forces sailed to Felimath, Doorn and Avra, and delivered them from the monster. In gratitude, the inhabitants pledged their allegiance to his crown." She gestured to the last portrait, which was of herself. "I am the second in my line to have been responsible for their happiness and welfare." She paused, and looked at the girl beside her. "Lady Susan?" she asked in some concern.

Susan's mind was reeling. Silvana was the daughter of King Gale? She was of the line of King Frank? Yes, of course! She called the King of Archenland "Cousin". Susan turned white, then red, then white again, and put her hands up to her cheeks. Of _course_ Tevran had never heard of Aslan's Howe! Aslan had not yet died on the Stone Table! If she had called it "The Stone Table", he would most certainly have recognized the name. And it was equally unsurprising that no one had heard of _her_—she and her siblings had not yet come to Narnia! King Gale had been made Emperor in the year 302, and her own coronation had been in 1000.

The last vestige of doubt fell from her mind. It all made sense. All of it. Her knees shook.

Silvana put a gentle hand on her arm. "Lady Susan?" she asked.

Susan did not collapse, she did not faint, she did not scream. In later years she was very proud of the fact.

Instead, she burst into tears.

**TBC**

**

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AN: Whew! Finally out with the new chapter! I am so very sorry this is taking so long. The problem is, I came up with a premise, but I really have no plot in mind. And when you have no plot, it makes it a bit harder to write a story… But I'm working on it! Also, I'm on summer break, and I'm bored out of my skull, and lack of stimulation does not always help the writing process…**

The peaches haven't shown up as much in the last two chapters because Susan is a bit more interested in the other things going on around her—and besides, she can't haul a jar of peaches around the gardens of Cair Paravel!

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm so amazed at the reception this fic is receiving.

I went to see Star Wars last weekend, and I saw a preview for _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_! Eeeeeeee! I'm so excited!

**Jaina Kenobi**: Isn't that the truth!

**WomanWithAQuill**: Actually, I don't really like peaches. :)

**fledge**: Narnian time is a strange thing indeed…

**Amme Moto**: Thanks! I'll email when I get really stuck…

**Tiffy**: Old Narnia

**sonali**: Yeah, sorry about the chapter lengths. If this were a piece I was going to publish, after I got everything written, I would go back and try to expand. But as I'm putting it up chapter by chapter, it's kind of hard to do. I agree, Edmund is great!

**SGael**: Do you mean to tell me you heard about this fic by word of mouth? Yahooooo! Fame at last! JK

**Princess Amoreth**: I'm glad you like the style! Narnian fics just lend themselves to pretty language.

**yoo-hoo luver… w/legs!**: —imagines a yoo-hoo lover _without_ legs— I'm sorry, I'm just stuck on your name. It's so funny!. :)

**Kaori Bibishii**: —laughs for a very long time— Oh no! I must save my readers from unupdateaphobia! —runs in with the antidote— And if everybody gets fed up enough with my typos and asks me to get a beta, I'll keep you in mind!

**Miss Becky Malfoy**: Well, you're just as confused as Susan, then. :)

**Ravens Destiny**: Hello, dear! Yes, brain freezes are very strange. Hope your attention span isn't so short that you won't put up with this poor slow-writing fanfic author! I like to try and imitate C.S. Lewis some, and I don't so much with _Something Rotten_. Tolkein's style is a bit hard to imitate. Also, I can indulge in a lot more third person narrative here, since the style of the Narnia books permits it. In _Something Rotten_ I've been trying to stay in one particular person's point of view at a time, partially to avoid Mary-Sueness, which is definitely not a problem in a Narnia fic. I wonder why Mary-Sue writers have never invaded Narnia? Probably because there's no movie with a fabulously handsome male lead in it… :)

**JM Monet**: Thank you very much! There was a fascinating fic I read once, which I'll have to find again and recommend to everyone, which followed Susan a few years after The Last Battle, living in New York. I'll have to hunt it out sometime; it was good. Oh, don't die!

**theKRITIC**: lol Susan's going to have a peaches-jar-shaped bruise! And you were pretty close about the time period; good job!

**Princess Siara**: Nopers. Old Narnia.

**MissE**: —smiles mischievously— We shall see exactly what kind of "Gentle" she grows into…

**Thalion**: Well, I've been using a book called _A Book of Narnians_ which includes a timeline for Narnia, and all it says for the rulers between the Pevensies' reign and the Telmarine invasion if "About this time lived Queen Swanwhite of Narnia." Only problem is, in _The Last Battle_ it specifically says that Queen Swanwhite lived before the Long Winter. But there were human lords of Narnia during the Pevensies' reign, so maybe some of them took the throne? The islands belonging to Narnia would have been inhabited mostly by humans, if _The Voyage of the Dawntreader_ is any guide; maybe they became Narnian lords. So we really don't know _who_ ruled between the Pevensies (ending in 1015) and the Telmarines (beginning in 1998).

**Red Crow**: That's one of the things I love about the Narnia books. You get a completely different impression of them reading them as an adult than you do as a child.

**Aibari**: Wow, threats of suicide, murder… I'm taking this as a compliment!. :)

**Autumn Willow** and **Silverphoenix2**: Thank you for a timely reminder!

Thanks also to **Gods-girl2004**, **almostinsane**, **Kimmy7**, **ice73**, **steelelf**, **JESSEK**, **Onyx Dawn**, **HottStuffMelv**, **silver-star-0**, **megan**, **Mary** and **csi-ds9**. Every review reminds me to get my nose to the grindstone!

**Please review!**


	5. A Little Chat

"Oh, dear," Silvana said putting her hand on Susan's shoulder. "Whatever is wrong?"

Susan could only sob. Here she was, a grown woman, twenty-one years old, and crying like a child! But she couldn't seem to the stop. The shock of it all had finally caught up with her.

Silvana put her arm around her shoulders and gently herded her out of the gallery and up some stairs. Speaking soothingly to her young guest, she took her into her own chamber and bade her sit down on the bed. Crossing back to the door, she peeked out into the hall. A dulled clip-clopping noise alerted her that a faun was coming, and sure enough, a handsome little curly-haired faun turned the corner.

"Aeolus," Silvana said, "would you please bring me a cup of hot chocolate?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty," Aeolus answered quickly, and trotted off to do her bidding.

Silvana turned back to Lady Susan, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to wipe her cheeks. Silvana handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," Susan managed to sob, and plied it diligently.

In a few minutes, a knock was heard on the door. Silvana opened it.

"Your chocolate, Majesty," Aeolus said cheerfully.

Silvana thanked him and shut the door again. Sitting down next to Susan, she handed her the mug.

Susan stared at her. "Go on, drink it. You will feel better," Silvana said kindly. Susan took the mug and wrapped her hands around it, but did not drink it. "What is the matter?" Silvana asked. "It can't be anything all that terrible."

"I didn't tell you the truth," Susan hiccupped. "I'm not from the southern border. I'm not from Narnia—nor Archenland," she quickly added when Silvana seemed about to speak. "I don't come from this world." She dropped her eyes to the steaming mug in her hands.

"Ah—that explains your confusion," Silvana said quietly. "And your discomfort around some of our royal subjects," she continued with a tiny chuckle.

Susan looked up to see that the Queen, so far from being angry with her, was actually smiling. "Why did you not tell me sooner?"

"I… I thought I was dreaming, or going mad at first," Susan tried to explain, "and then I feared you wouldn't believe me."

"I have no reason not to believe you," the Queen said gently. "The very advent of Narnia included the arrival of six persons from other worlds, two of them my own ancestors. I see no reason why they could never enter again. Go on, drink up, and tell me everything."

Susan lifted the mug to her lips and tried to set her thoughts in order. Silvana waited patiently, and in fact, kicked off her slippers and pulled her feet up on the bed, getting comfortable. With a watery smile, Susan followed suit.

Finally, after a few sips of the thick, rich chocolate, she rested the mug on her knee. "Well, this is not the first time I've been to Narnia," she said slowly. "My siblings and I came here almost ten years ago. But things are… different. They have changed with time." She didn't want to go into the entire complicated subject—what Peter referred to as "the usual muddle with time". So she simplified it, but still gave the basic truth. "It's been eight years since I'd been in Narnia last, and it seemed so far away, that it seems I'd… forgotten it."

Silvana shook her head. "How could you forget something as momentous as a trip to another world?" she asked in wonder. "If I had the opportunity to experience that, I think I should remember it for the rest of my life, and look back on it often."

Susan shook her head. "I—I didn't _want_ to remember it, I think," she said quietly. "For many different reasons, none of which I think I can state clearly now. But I did forget. And then, just yesterday morning, I went down into the cellar to get a jar of peaches," (Silvana smiled) "and there was a door I had never seen before, leading to a passage, and I went through. And when I came out on the other side, I was standing in a pile of ruins and your brother was walking across the grass toward me, and well, you know the rest."

Silvana leaned back and frowned thoughtfully. Susan sipped her chocolate in the silence—it really was very good, and it did make her feel more comfortable. Cozy—as if she were having a chat with a girlfriend back home.

Finally, Silvana spoke. "The only time I have ever heard of people from another world coming to Narnia was at the creation of our world. As I recall, they were the Northern Witch, the Lord Diggory and the Lady Polly, King Frank and Queen Helen, and a very silly man that Lord Diggory called Uncle Andrew. I have never heard of you or your siblings."

"No, I think we managed to evade the notice of your historians," Susan said evasively. "I am sorry, Your Majesty, but there are things I cannot explain about my visits to Narnia—indeed, I don't think I _should_ explain them. But… I worry about this—my arrival. In every story I know of people from my world coming to Narnia, it was because Narnia was in trouble. And it doesn't seem to be at the moment. Either something bad is about to happen, or it was all a mistake—"

Silvana was shaking her head. "It was no mistake. Aslan would never bring someone to Narnia by mistake. And I do not believe something bad will happen. Think about it. Lord Diggory came to Narnia and he and Lady Polly planted the great Tree which has guarded our land these many years. Uncle Andrew had a bit of a bad time of it, but I believe no harm came to him, and Frank and Helen became rulers of Narnia. It was not because Narnia was in trouble that they came—for it certainly was not before they arrived, not even having been created yet!—but to fulfill some purpose they had here, or in Uncle Andrew's case, to hopefully learn some lesson from the adventure. Do not worry yourself about that."

Susan nodded. Silvana was right. Lucy and Edmund had told her at length about their voyage on the Dawn Treader, and it seemed that had not been in a time of trouble for Narnia. So perhaps she needn't worry about that after all.

"There's something else that's bothering me," she admitted. "You see, when I left Narnia last time, Aslan told me I could never come back. But here I am."

Silvana tilted her head to one side. "And you're afraid he might have lied?"

Susan smiled sheepishly. "A little."

Silvana smiled confidently and shook her head. "Aslan cannot lie. Perhaps you simply misinterpreted what he said. Can you remember his exact words?"

Susan shook her head. "I can hardly recall the conversation at all," she admitted regretfully. "Some parts of my memory are still rather fuzzy." _Mostly the parts that include Aslan_, she confessed mentally.

Silvana gave a decisive nod. "I'm sure that when you really _want_ to remember them, you will," she said firmly. "In the meanwhile: what are we to do with you?"

Susan smiled. "I was rather hoping you would know," she confided.

"Well, I could let everyone know who you are and where you are from," Silvana said slowly. "You would be much honored by our people—feasted, dances given in your honor—"

"Is there another way?" Susan asked, a little uncomfortably.

"Do you not wish for feasts?" Silvana asked, with (Susan almost thought) a bit of knowing amusement in her voice.

"Well… yes, but… But I would be so embarrassed," she admitted.

Silvana smiled. "Well then, how about we keep this a secret between the two of us? No one else need know you are not Narnian-born—the daughter of immigrants from the Lone Islands, no doubt," she fabricated, "who grew up near the border of Archenland. You and some companions came here on a visit to see some ruins, you were separated from your party and brought here to Cair Paravel, and we have sent word to your people that you will be staying with us for awhile. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful. Thank you, Your Majesty," Susan said gratefully, setting down her empty mug.

"Excellent. Well, our guests will be wondering what is keeping us so long; we should go down to them," Silvana said, standing. Susan nodded and followed her out the door. It was good to have it sorted out, and a huge relief to have told someone the truth.

000

They went down to the gardens, where some of the dwarfs and nymphs were entertaining the guests with music. Queen Silvana took a place by Prince Everon, and Susan found an empty spot between the naiad and a rather large hedgehog. She realized that the naiad had on much more revealing clothing than she had worn when she arrived and so shocked Prince Belarion. But looking at the nymphs, she realized that they all wore Greek costume while the humans wore something a bit more medieval—though much more beautiful and comfortable, Susan was sure. Perhaps their two subcultures came with two different standards of modesty.

Susan jumped as she felt a slight prick in her arm. The hedgehog had leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Prince Belarion has gone off to meet the nobles; they have been touring Lantern Waste," she said excitedly in her snuffly voice. "They were held up, or they would have been here yesterday to welcome the guests. Cair Paravel will be a lively place when everyone is back in residence!"

"Yes indeed," the naiad on her other side agreed. "We shall have feasts and a tourney…" She smiled knowingly at Lady Susan. "And handsome young men as well," she added slyly.

Susan smiled at the goodwill inthe naiad'sface and settled back in her seat to enjoy the music. Maybe this stay in Narnia wouldn't be so bad after all!

**TBC**

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AN: Wow, that was difficult to finish… And looking back, I'm not so sure why! Writer's block sucks, don't it? Sorry for the shortness of the chapter.**

I found the Susan fic I mentioned before; it's called "The Subway" by DJ Caligula. I'm not wild about the theme (I found the ending pretty unsatisfactory), but the writing style is fabulous, and I love the depiction of Aslan!

**trecebo**: It's the absolute truth! I bet if people think the guy who plays Peter is really handsome in the upcoming movie, we may be seeing a Mary Sue invasion… More dangerous than the White Witch and much less attractive!

**fledge**: Thank you for putting in that list! I used it to address the issues in this chapter. And the third question is finally answered!

**Ravens Destiny**: Yeah, I used to think Sam West was really good-looking, too. I love how there are so few British actors around, you keep seeing the same ones show up in different shows. I just about had a heart attack when I saw Prince Caspian in "As Time Goes By"! As I'm sure you know, he also played Dr. Frankenstein in "Van Helsing".

**Gods-girl2004**: That's a great idea, but I'm unfortunately not going to use it. I want to concentrate a lot on the character of Susan herself, so the wild action will probably be kept to a minimum, and if Susan met up with the White Witch we would have more action than we could deal with!

**Amme Moto**: I liked "A Series of Unfortunate Events", but then again, I've never read the books. Yeah, I hope they don't mess LWW up, too.

**Kurosh Hormozian**: Yep, grew up on Narnia books. The nice thing about not having read them for years is that they're a very short read! Shouldn't take you too much time at all should you decide to pick them back up again.

**csi-ds9**: At your suggestion, borrowed "The Companion to Narnia" from the library. It looks like a fascinating and well-written book! Unfortunately, didn't get around to reading it and ended up paying a $1 overdue fine on it… lol

**Yyunesprith**: I've already got in mind the way we get around Aslan's restriction. Anybody who would like a hint should read the end of _Prince Caspian_ where he actually tells Peter and Susan they can't return. That's all the clues I'm giving. :) Thanks for taking me up in such an in-depth way!

**Linny loo**: lol Ouch indeed! —shudders at the thought of Narnian Mary-Sues— The thing is, there are so many things in Narnia for a fanfiction writer to pick up and run with! You really don't _need_ Mary-Sues! Things like, stories set in Calormen, what happened to the first Telmarines (who "behaved very wickedly and Aslan turned them into dumb beasts"), King Gale slaying the dragon, Olvin of Archenland killing the two-headed Giant Pire and winning the lovely Lady Liln, Peter's raid on the Northern Giants, Ram the Great, Queen Swanwhite, Moonwood the Hare, the pirate Telmarines, Caspian X's defeat of the Northern Giants at the age of 14, Caspian's wedding to Ramandu's daughter, her death, outbreak of outlaws in lantern waste… The list goes on and on! (And if anyone uses any of those ideas to write a story, do let me know, because I'd love to read it!)

Thanks also to **yoo-hoo luver w/legs**, **Autumn Willow**, **Jaina Kenobi**, **Herald Jacquelle**, **Cats Rule4**, **gwen**, **Stargazing Maiden**, **Jeune lune**, **Thalion** and **Little Lotte's Evil Twin**!

**Please review!**


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